At The Mirrors
by KindOfAGirl
Summary: The Trans-Galactic Association of Professional Antagonists, its annual convention, gala, and silent raffle, and several of the attendees. Oh, and white pankake. Written for SpringKink on LJ FFN really needs a "Crack" genre - it would be handy here!


Prompt: _Crossover: Batman/Final Fantasy VI, Joker & Kefka: make-up tips - "No, no, you're doing it wrong!"  
_A/N: Wow, this one went off the rails. Hopefully it's amusing enough to make up for the off-prompt-ness. (Points for catching all the references in here!)

"… mind if I— borrow some slap?"  
"Go ahead," the other man says, smoothing the sheet-white cream over his face. "You know, it's better if you don't rub it in so much – stays on longer," he says after a moment.  
"Really? Hmm…"

One of the more interesting features of the Trans-Galactic Association of Professional Antagonists (known as the Evil League of Evil in some places) is its annual convention, gala and silent raffle, hosted by a different member every year – this time it's in some random out-of-the-way mansion that half the attendees have never even heard of, on a little bitty island on a little bitty planet in a mostly undeveloped galaxy. The travel arrangements, for the most part, have been a collective nightmare. The place is pretty, though, and the catering staff is better than anything for the last few years. The only problem is the unisex bathrooms…

"Oh, Kefka, let me see that– you're doing it kompletely wrong!" Ultimecia has managed to somehow sneak up on the two men. "No wonder you always komplain about how fast you run out of pankake. You don't need a full inch of it to get the kolor, you just need a little. You don't have to kake it on."  
"Meecee, darling, wonderful to see you again," Kefka says sarcastically. "How I've missed your constant stream of sardonic observations and un-asked-for advice."  
"And I've missed your pointless jokes and tangential grammar." She nonchalantly reaches into the bag on the counter and pulls out several pieces of his makeup.  
"Hey, hey, hands off the eyeliner, that's the expensive stuff!" Kefka swats at her hand, but she evades him easily.  
"Kefka, I know you. You probably stole this anyway." Ultimecia calmly continues applying the deep black pencil to her eyes.  
"Well, yes, but still! That's mine!"  
"You use my lipstick, do you not?" She's completely deadpan, as if she's used to this. "Out of kuriosity, have you seen any of the others yet?" the tall woman asks as she leans closer to the mirror and touches up her lipstick.  
"Ahh…I know Sephy's co-hosting one of the seminars, probably the one on how to be enough of a pretty-boy ponce to not get in trouble for _anything_, Kuja's flouncing his pansy self around here somewhere, and if I didn't know better I'd swear that I saw Jecht's twerp of a kid at the buffet line. Your friend Malli-fissent or whatever her name was is here, she was glaring at me earlier—"

"I heard that, Kefka," says a high-pitched voice from the door, belonging to someone wearing far too little clothing for this climate. "I do NOT flounce." The speaker flounces in, pouting at Kefka for a moment, and then he sees the woman. "Mecia, darling, it's been too long." He smiles at her.  
"Kuja, my dear, you're looking wonderful."The two of them hug, kiss the air next to each others' cheeks – Kefka mimes retching behind their backs – and immediately start fussing with each other's hair and gabbling about who's wearing what and how they've been and oh, is that a new shade of lipstick?

"Eh…Kefka, who are these tweedledees anyway?" the disheveled man with the purple jacket asks, looking with at the boy in the thong with a raised eyebrow and a somewhat amused expression.  
"Oh, you mean these two? They're – well, I guess you could say they're dear old friends, but with friends like these… Anyway, the one with the boobs is Ultimecia, and the one with the hair is Kuja. Yes, he's a boy, all appearances aside. Meecee, Kuja, this is – er -"  
"A friend of mine calls me— Mista J, and that will do for now, I think." He bows somewhat unsteadily to the still slightly giggly pair. "It's— a pleasure."

"Did I see you at the seminar on how to fine-tune your timing?" Kuja says.  
"Yep, but I—didn't have a clue what he was on about with the 'I did it thirty-five minutes ago!' thing. He's got some sort of—" he pauses and tongues the scars on his mouth "—fixation or something."  
"Oh, yes, it was strange. But not quite so much as the man giving the dancing lessons. That was...surreal."  
"Oh, who're you kidding, Kuja, you were eating that up with a spork," Kefka snorts, which makes Kuja pout again. "Don't try to deny it. Besides, you're kinda cute when you giggle."

"Kefka, for once, will you be quiet?" Kuja snaps, rolling his eyes irritably. "Ugh, you never change."  
"One of my better traits, pretty boy. Always be an unpredictable pain in the neck, I say."  
"Is that in the handbook you adore so much?" Ultimecia says with a dismissive little laugh.  
"What, the Evil Overlord List? I don't think so, no, it's one of my own creations." He smirks at her, and his companion shakes his head.  
"No, no, man, if you – run on a list like that, then the good guys can just get their sssssmarmy little hands on a copy and learn - all - your - tricks. You gotta keep your cards close to your chest."

"Differences of style, my dear boy, merely differences of style. You run them ragged trying to guess what you'll do next, while I let them prepare for one plan while I do something completely different." He shrugs. "Different methods, same result – the good guys end up with egg on their faces, and we end up with the spoils and the glory and the right to laugh at them." He pauses. "That's right, the evil-laughter workshop starts in an hour. You lot of lunatics wanna go catch a coffee or something before we head over?"  
"Wonder if they do grenadine lattes..." Mr. J says thoughtfully as they walk out of the room.


End file.
